Whatshername
by Oversoul
Summary: To Elena, there's nothing worse than losing your chance for vaildation except learning why. When the truth of the matter is thrown into relief, the ensuing drama threatens to tear the Turks apart. Ingame, mostly preMeteor.


(( Now. Here we have yet another excuse not to work on SNK. Don't worry, chapter three's coming, but this is first. I actually started working on this oneshot some months ago, but with a huge case of writer's block regarding SNK, I decided to take it up again shortly after Christmas break started. And, roughly a week later, here's the finished project.

First of all, this is a record for me: Not only is this piece the longest I've ever written by about ten pages, but I was able to do it the fastest of all my other updates, considering its insane length. Needless to say, I'm very proud of this oneshot. I was going to divide it into chapters based on every time the scene switches, which believe me, is a LOT of times, but then I decided I like it better in all of its twenty-three page glory.

Anyways. Without further adieu... ))

Elena didn't particularly stand out. Maybe because she was new to the Turks, or because there wasn't anything especially interesting about her. After being promoted, she'd expected to be noticed for her hard work and abilities, but the case wasn't as such; only part of the so-called "elite" orginization out of charity, it seemed, the young woman spent the majority of her time doing paperwork and other menial tasks. She had joined the ShinRa for the thrill of on-the-scene jobs and missions, but had pretty much been left out of the action on every opportunity.

Not that it had surprised her, at first. It was only expected that there would be a breaking-in period in the beginning, small assignments to get her used to the job. But as a month came and went, she found herself still on the sidelines. As it turned out, she had only been given the promotion because of another Turk's battle injuries and therefore inability to carry out orders. So although feeling let down, she continued to do her best to fulfill the orders given to her in the hope of becoming as outstanding as her comrades.

As it were, such an effort wasn't required. No sooner than Reno was back on the job, she started accompanying him and Rude on their various missions and attempts to stop Cloud. But in the end, Elena was always stuck with filing reports and relaying information between teams and never actually doing any field work. She knew it was necessary, to give experience for future tasks and to ensure that she wouldn't screw up at a cruicial moment, but that didn't make the whole situation any less frustrating.

She had pretty much faded into the background again, when she recieved another order. It was just like the others: she was to go with Tseng to the Temple of the Ancients and determine the information Sephiroth sought, then take an appropriate course of action depending on what they discovered. Acting as support once again, just there to take notes and keep anything from getting too far out of hand. That was hardly likely, though. The Wutain man wasn't the Director, the backbone of the Turks, for nothing; nobody really knew his abilities, but it was certain he was no pushover.

It was all getting rather annoying. These endless "tutorial" missions, serving as courses on how to do her job instead of actually providing the field experience to do it. Elena expected everything to go smoothly, as usual. But when the two arrived at their destination, she began to have second thoughts. There was a tense air about the ancient structure, and it made her uneasy. Like something lay waiting, ready to pounce.

Either Tseng could see she was frustrated at being the eternal newbie or her uneasiness was showing, because in an act most unlike him, he allowed her to back out and report to the President. Normally, she would have been appalled at being dismissed to do paperwork. But the atmosphere sent shivers down her spine, and all she really wanted was to go back to her suite near headquarters and simmer. So she bid him farewell greatfully, and turned to leave.

"How about dinner after this job is over?"

She had never in a million years expected to hear those words. From him, or anyone. For a moment, all she could do was stand in disbelief. Recieving such an invitation was like finally being accepted into the group, like being moved up on to equal ground with the rest of the Turks, and no other prospect made her happier. Shakily, she accepted, and went on her way back to Midgar.

The roundtrip only took a few hours, and once at home in her apartment complex in Sector 3, Elena was pressed for time. Midway through her search for something to wear, she remembered the formal report she was to complete and hand in and hastily typed it out, taking breaks in between to empty out the contents of her closet and rummage through them. Without any means of transportation, she was forced to run frantically to the ShinRa building and present the coveted information with her blazer undone and a tie hanging over one shoulder.

Once the embarassing ordeal was over with, it was nearly pitch black. Tseng would be back any minute, and she still didn't know what to do with herself; it would look and feel awful if she was ill-prepared for her first formal outing with the ShinRa. While trying to tame her windtossed hair, it occured to her that it wasn't actually a date she was approaching being late to. There was only one place close enough for a quick bite to eat and drinks, and it was but an informal bar. She felt stupid for jumping to conclusions. Reno and Rude would probably be there as well.

After taking a few minutes to compose herself, she set out. The initial excitement of being invited to dinner had worn off over the short walk, and upon entering the bar, Elena felt increasingly nervous. But amongst the throngs of SOLDIERs on leave, tired workers, and bums with just enough money to spend on alcohol, there was no sign of a telltale navy suit. It was no worry, though, she told herself upon sitting down at the counter. Someone would show up. She ordered a drink and waited.

Minutes became hours, and nobody came. Any recognition of time slipped away with her regard for the number of shots she'd taken as the clock ticked by. Wobbling on her stool as her hand shook holding up a small glass, she recounted her slurred story to the bartender. Her words eventually stopped making sense as she prattled on, and the next thing she knew, he was shaking her awake shortly after midnight, expecting payment for the ridiculous amount of alcohol she'd consumed. So she gave him all the money she had on her, the amount coming up to nearly double what she owed, and hazily went back home. She tumbled into bed with her clothes on and fell asleep immediately.

A good ten or so hours of rest was what she really needed. But we all know that's not what she got.

**WHATSHERNAME**

_A (mostly) Elena-centric oneshot by Oversoul_

_Brrrrrrrrrr. Brrrrrrrrrr._

The annoying buzz of a cellphone vibrating was the first thing she heard upon reluctantly regaining consciousness.

_What time is it?_

Elena opened her eyes a crack, and the glowing light from the radio-clock on her wooden bedside table sent stabbing pains to the back of her head. She attempted to move a sweaty palm to her forehead, and her muscles screamed in protest. And still the phone sounded.

_Brrrrrrrrrr. Brrrrrrrrrr._

Brown orbs squeezed shut again, a knot formed in her stomach and rose all the way to the base of her throat. She had to answer the call. It was her duty. Slowly, she eased her sore eyes open again, pushing the pain to the back of her pounding head.

_Take it easy. Little by little..._

Slowly but surely, the aching woman pushed herself up in bed against the cold headboard.

_Brrrrrrrrrr. Brrrrrrrrrr._

Uttering a low curse and blinking flashing dots out of her blurry vision, she picked up her cellphone and snapped it open. She didn't even need to answer before she heard Rude's deep voice on the other end.

_"Elena. Something's happened. You're needed at headquarters."_

The line went dead. She listened to the beeping sound of the reciever for a while, letting herself adjust blearily to the darkness of her small bedroom. Though every inch of her felt as if it would split open, she swiveled her legs to the side of the bed and dropped on to the floor. Wincing as the heels of her shoes hit the hardwood a hundred times louder than they should have, she stood wobbily, using the wall to steady herself for a brief moment.

Elena didn't bother with her appearance at all before heading out on to the empty streets once more. Apart from the queasiness, there was a crushing pressure in her stomach she couldn't shake. She was worried. There hadn't been any sounds of gunfire or explosions in the background when Rude had called, and his voice hadn't been urgent at all. He had sounded tired. The bald man made a point of showing as little emotion as possible, and there was something about his tone that was unsettling.

A small, nagging voice in the far recesses of her mind knew what had happened. The rest of her fought to ignore it, growing more and more anxious with every step towards the ShinRa building. And eventually the towering structure loomed before her, hauntingly luminescent against the purple-orange sky of Midgar. Squinting against the intense light, she walked in through the front door and was pointedly ignored by the receptionist. She boarded the elevator and pressed the button for the 80th floor, fumbling around for her key-card and swiping it before the lift started moving.

(_A/N: I am perfectly aware that the elevator in the ShinRa building only goes to the 79th floor. STFU_.)

The President wasn't at his desk. There instead sat Reno, looking down with his head propped in his hands. He cast her a glance when she took a step into the room, but didn't say a word. His eyes were bloodshot. A small distance away, Rude stood with his hands behind his back, gaze fixated on the window. His expression was unreadable from such a distance.

Uneasily, Elena took a few more steps closer to the two. Before her brain could make sense of it, her mouth curved into a prim smile and she chortled quietly. Elena Rule Number #1: Always pretend you're okay, especially when you're not.

The other Turks looked at her as if laughter was a completely alien sound. Convinced that wasn't the right way to go about things, she took a different approach.

"So," she started awkwardly, eyebrows coming closer together unconsciously. "What's up?"

Rude seemed completely lost as to what to say. He gave a short look to the red-haired man sitting nearby, who paused for a moment before saying in a voice that cracked slightly at first, "You and Tseng went to the Temple of the Ancients." Another pause. Elena nodded for him to continue, smile firmly set in place. "...You left early to file a report, right?"

"Yes. Why?" _Keep smiling._

Reno stood abruptly and walked around the desk until he was in front of her. Shuffling uncomfortably, he put his hands in his pockets out of habit and avoided looking her in the eye. Glancing off to the side, he eventually uttered a few words before trailing off.

"A few hours after, he..."

The tension in the air was so thick it was nearly visible. The three of them stood silent and still for several minutes, save for an occasional fidget. Elena's smile intensified into a grin, her teeth clenched tightly.

_That's it. Keep smiling like nothing's wrong. _"... And?"

Reno's answer was a short mutter. She heard the whole sentance, but the only words that registered were "blood" and "gone". The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. The voice in the back of her headscreamed for her to accept the truth, and she blocked it out. It couldn't be. She refused to believe it.

Grimacing more than smiling now, her breath felt as if it would explode from her chest. "Speak louder," she said tightly. "I can't hear you."

_Just keep smiling and everything will be okay--_

"Tseng is _dead_."

The last word sailed around the empty room before hitting her like a truck. Turquoise eyes met hers unblinkingly, and she could see how trulybloodshot they had become. The thin man's mouth was set into a grim line, jaw firmly set. He wasn't lying. But still she refused to acknowledge the facts. Elena Rule #2: Deny, deny, deny.

Her smile tugged at her cheeks and became more taught as she looked downwards at her shoes, bangs falling into and obscuring her eyes. "That's not funny," she mumbled quietly.

Suddenly infuriated at Elena's ignorance, Reno all but exploded, "Listen! The facts are _there_. He didn't come back when he was _supposed _to. And you know what we found when we went to look?"

"Reno," Rude warned his comrade, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was swatted away. Elena's face burned as her shoulders began to shake, gaze still fixated firmly on the floor.

"_Blood. _A huge, fricken' puddle of _blood. _And the Boss sure as hell ain't on his _period_."

_Smile--_

Too late. In an instant, the blonde's head snapped up, and fighting back hot tears that threatened to spill, she wound her arm back behind her. Before Reno knew what hit him, a fist connected with his scarred cheek and he staggered back into the edge of the desk behind him, swearing loudly.

"_Hey_!" he shouted, outraged. Rubbing the blood gruffly from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, he started towards the hastily retreating back of the one who had punched him. After a few angered steps, a hand caught his arm above the elbow and held him back. All the two could do was watch Elena storm into the elevator and go back down.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Furious and sobbing quietly, Elena swung the door of her apartment open and it crashed against the wall, probably waking up many neighbours. But she didn't care. She slammed it shut again, and without bothering to lock up, tore the light switch on and opened the door to her room harshly. Ravenously digging out a large suitcase from the closet, she threw it on to her bed, then stuffed any clothes she could get her hands on into it.

Her arms and legs were sore and she had a tremendous headache brewing behind her tearful eyes, but still she continued packing until there was nothing left in her closet. A mountain of clothes and shoes sat in the open suitcase. She grabbed the top flap and wrenched it down, mentally screaming at the thick leather luggage bag to close enough for her to zip it up. But no matter how much she yanked and tugged, the thin flap wouldn't even come near the rest of the suitcase.

Becoming more and more angry by the second, she strained with it a while longer before hurtling two pairs of shoes and various articles of clothing over her head, almost disappointed when she didn't hear them hit anything fragile. She continued struggling with the lid, fingers red, knuckles white and arms shaking madly from the effort. She grit her teeth until the point it hurt, still sobbing breathlessly, then let go. Sinking on to the floor, she cried softly, gathering her knees to her chest and leaning her head against the mattress of her bed. Tears flowed freely down her face, blurring the lights in her room and from the city beyond her window into bright explosions dancing in front of her eyes.

Elena awoke to such a sight, eyes sore and red from crying. Her vision burned from the sudden light, but no more tears came. She stood numbly, and sat heavily down on her bed. She regarded her suitcase for a moment before removing all she had packed into it, dumping it behind her and selecting a wrinkled shirt from the pile. Smoothing out the creases on her lap as best she could, she folded it and put it back in the luggage bag. She did the same with a pair of pants next, then a skirt, another blouse, and eventually all the clothes on her bed were folded and packed neatly.

Standing again and trudging into the small bathroom, she flicked on the light and picked a few random combs, a toothbrush and some toothpaste from a drawer, avoiding catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Those too went in the bag, along with a pair of plain shoes she picked up from the floor. Well aware of the fact that her face was covered in tear stains and her hair was a mess, she zipped up the suitcase and pulled if off the bed, dragging it over to the door and turning lights off along the way. Having grabbed the key off of her bedside table, she went out the door and locked it behind her.

The walk to the bus stop was a quiet one. Nobody was outside at five in the morning, nor were they awake, for that matter. There were still the major companies whose workers were just starting their shifts, but that only made a hundred or so lit up buildings out of a million. If you weren't counting the ever-bright ShinRa building, radiating halogen light and mako in its spot at the centre of the plate. Even out of sight, a pillar of light shot up from its location and into the polluted heavens.

In most other cities and towns, the air smelled sweet at this time of morning in the sumer. Elena found that wasn't the case in Midgar as an empty bus pulled up in front of the bench she was sitting on, spewing rancid fumes from the exhaust pipe and adding to the humid air. When the doors folded open, she boarded silently, fished around for her wallet, and paid the appropriate sum before going to the row of seats at the back and putting her suitcase down next to her. Watching the lines on the street go by made her feel sick and even more tired, and while the hour it would take to get to Kalm wasn't very much sleep, it was enough. She stretched out on the seats and used the bag at her side as a pillow, allowing the vibrations from the engine to lull her to sleep.

oooooooooooooooooooo

"Goddamn it!" Reno exclaimed, pacing furiously back and forth in front of the desk he had been sitting at two hours ago. The large bruise under his eye had grown purple and blue with a sickly-looking yellow outline, but he paid no heed to it. Instead he focused his energy on scuffing the tile floor with his harsh strides, thoughts bubbling incoherently.

Eventually whirling around and picking up his discarded cellphone, he speed-dialed Elena's number and listened to it ring once before hanging up again.

"Where the hell'd she _go_!"

There was absolute silence before Rude turned from his spot at the window. "My guess would be the Temple of the Ancients."

Reno turned his head. "'The _hell _for?" Agitation was still written all over his sharp features.

There was another hesitant pause, but the answer came steadily. "I'm under the impression she didn't quite believe you."

That merited a scoff. "Well, if she wants to see fer herself, I'm not goin' after her."

Rude suppressed a heavy sigh, pushing up the bridge of his dark shades. It was amazing and terrifying how quickly death tore people apart. Unsure, he shifted his stoic position a few times before striding towards the elevator.

"You're waistin' yer time," Reno called from his spot behind the desk, feet propped up on it.

ooooooooooooooooooo

"Miss."

Elena blinked awake slowly, feeling a hand shaking her shoulder.

"Miss, we've arrived."

She sat up and blinked some more, trying to grasp her mentality. Where was she?

_... Oh yeah. Kalm._

Answers to her questions came flooding back, along with a deep sadness. It took root in her chest and spread like a poison, subduing her sluggish motions to lift the suitcase beside her from its seat as she stood. The bus-driver stepped aside as she made her way down the aisle, casting a worried look that went unnoticed. The young woman stepped off the bus, feeling completely empty and full at the same time. Sitting down on a nearby bench as the bulky vehicle drove away, she took out her cellphone and browsed through the list of numbers, searching for someone capable and willing of providing the favour she needed.

Scarlet and Heidegger in Weapons Developement... They wouldn't be any help.

Reeve in Urban Management and Developement... No.

As she neared the bottom of the list, Elena found herself losing hope. She wasn't sure if she knew anyone other than Reno, Rude or Tseng who knew how to pilot a helicopter. Even if she had learned herself, there was no way she would find one in a small rural town like Kalm. And she certainly wasn't going to go running back to Midgar for help.

The last name appeared in her vision, she knew it would be of no use either. Feeling the corners of her mouth twitch downwards, she flicked the phone shut and dropped it on to her lap, putting her elbows on her knees and driving her forehead into her palms. She sat like that for a while, eyes crammed shut, breaths starting to come faster. What was she going to do? Her shoulders shook with a dry sob, though her eyes were too dry or tired to form tears.

Her stomach churned as she considered the possibilities. She could go back to Midgar and shamelessly ask for help there. She could go to Junon and find a cargo ship bound for the Southern Islands. Neither of the two options would be easy, nor did they appeal to her.

_I'm so stupid._

Elena found herelf without any course of action to speak of, sitting on a bench at a bus stop with nothing but her wallet, cellphone and suitcase. She probably had enough money to stay the night at the local hotel. But what would she do then? Stay AWOL until she was broke, then wander back into Midgar with nothing but the clothes on her back? It was just too hard.

Swallowing the rising lump in her throat, she picked up her cellphone again and flipped it open, going immediately to speed-dial. Her breath caught, and she selected Rude's number.

oooooooooooooooooooo

The cellphone at the bald man's hip started vibrating as he stepped out the front doors of the ShinRa building. He opened it and pressed it to his ear, hearing nothing for a few seconds before someone on the other end took a deep breath.

"_... It's Elena_."

Her voice was tired and barely audiable, causing worry to flow through his veins. She sounded awful.

"_Um. I'm at the busstop just inside Kalm. I..._"

He waited patiently for her to continue.

_"... I... I need a lift to the Temple of the Ancients._"

He answered almost immediately, then hung up.

"I'll be right there."

oooooooooooooooooooo

Elena reached the border of the small town as a black helicopter touched down, the long grass underneath it laying nearly flat from the spiraling winds that buffeted from above. She stepped into the waving field, her blazer and pant legs flapping behind her. Cropped hair flying into her face, she climbed up, putting her suitcase in before sitting down in the seat next to Rude. Neither of them said a word, nor looked at each other as the aircraft lifted off into the morning sky again.

When she turned to look out the window next to her, someone she didn't know stared back at her with dull eyes. Dark bags were under each, and traces of red blotches were just fading away from the stranger's face. Her hair was untamed and windtossed, the part that had been firmly established the night before back in its original place. Formerly well-kept blonde tresses had grown dry at the tips and greasy at the roots.

Such an image didn't inspire any feelings in its mirror. She focused past her phantom and out at the green land below her. It soon slipped away into the eternal blue of the ocean, dyed pale orange and pink in some parts from the slowly rising sun that lay beyond it. It was daunting how the pale orb looked so close but was so many miles away. She was close enough to feel it warmth and see its glow, but too far away to thank it. She could, but it wouldn't hear her.

She wanted to reach out and pull it to her. She could extend her arm and pretend to close her fingers around it, temporarily blocking its radiance, but when she let go it would still be in the same spot and no less reachable. Pulling the sun out of the sky was an impossible feat. And when it eventually fell from grace, her world would stop spinning and plummet into darkness.

The ocean eventually turned to land again, and the flat plains grew closer as Elena and Rude descended on to them. The sun was higher in the sky now, having broken away from the water and ascended to its rightful place amongst the thin clouds. The two of them hovered slowly over the small island, and the grass gradually became greener as they neared the forest enshrouding the Temple. A tree appeared below them, then two, then three, and after a few more minutes of flying the ancient structure lay in sight, partially hidden by the dark foilage.

Or rather, what was left of it.

What had once stood as a towering pyramid lay in ruins, the remainder of the walls surrounding a deep pit of rubble. None of the beige bricks could be seen outside what had used to be the Temple of the Ancients, suggesting the structure had come down on itself. It had been plenty stable the day before, so the only way that was possible was by non-natural means.

The helicopter set down just in front of the Temple, and Elena tenatively let herself down. Rude followed closely behind, and she didn't object. Even obliterated, the place still frightened her. Stepping over a large rock and then ducking under an overhanging branch, she slowly made her way to the entrace of the ruins. The bridge and gatweay to the altar were perfectly intact, as were the long set of steps that lead up to it.

They both crossed the bridge, cautious of any large cracks in it and passed through the entrance way. She remembered climbing the staircase only yesterday, when there had been a building behind it, and trembled. There was still a good foundation at its back, but that wasn't what worried her. Trivial as they were, the memories that came were unwanted.

Eventually the two found themselves at the top of the incline. Elena paused, trying to see inside, but an eerie darkness blocked her vision. She battled with herself momentarily, then took the step, hearing another behind her. Suddenly, the whole room was thrown into relief. The same dim golden lighting, the same polished altar, the same shining plaque on which she and Tseng had stood, the same pillars. But something was different, and it was the first thing she noticed.

A dark stain, spanning from one wall to the platform she and Rude stood before. She didn't need to look for a second before knowing what it was, but still she stared, transfixed. Then the reality hit her and she sunk to her knees limply, without a sound. She couldn't cry. No sobs racked her body. All she could do was sit there.

A hand touched her shoulder lightly and emotion welled up inside of her, threatening to burst. Then it petered out completely and her shoulders sagged, devoid of any energy.

"Leave me here," she said in just above a whisper. The man beside her looked down, startled. "I'll find a way back."

oooooooooooooooooooo

"You did _what_!"

"I left her," Rude repeated, unsurprised at his comrade's distressed look. "Back at the ruins."

"_Why_!" Reno slammed his hands down on the desk for emphasis, expression deepening.

"She asked me to. She isn't a child."

The red-haired man threw his arms up in the air then sank back into the seat behind him, at a lack of understanding.

"I'm sure she'll make it back safely," the Turk standing in front of him supplied. "Cargo ships and ferries must go by daily."

Reno scoffed softly, defeated. He propped his feet up on the desk again and leaned back, crossing his arms loosely over his stomach. "What makes you think she's _coming _back?"

oooooooooooooooooooo

"Icicle Inn? What for?"

"Business," Elena responded quietly, not meeting the ferryman's gaze.

He sighed, shooting a long glance skywards and scratching the back of his neck. "Listen, lady," he said uneasily. "It's a long way, 'n this thing don't go 's quick as a cargo ship..."

"It's fine," she answered monotonously. "As long as I get there."

Another sigh. "Y'sure? It'll cost more th'n a bit."

"Money isn't an issue."

The poor man finally gave in. "Alright," he conceded. "But it'll take until at least until the afternoon, 'n that's if I skip all m'stops."

"Sorry," the sullen woman half-whispered. "I just need to get there."

"Nah, s'alright! C'mon board." He gestured for her to cross the plank on to the small boat, and she did so silently. "I'll work out a fee on the way there. Sound good?"

She nodded, and took a seat on one of the many sun-bathed wooden benches aboard the ferry.

_Elena was just leaving the Temple when her cellphone shook at her belt. She unclipped it and pressed the "talk" button, searching in her throat for the voice to say "hello" and coming up empty-handed. Such an effort proved unrequired as she heard Reeve's on the other end._

_"Hey," he'd said, voice laden with news. "Just got some info from Cait Sith about Cloud's wherabouts. Said he'd been at the Temple of the Ancients late yesterday, and now he's on the Northern continent, most likely headed for the Great Crater."_

_"Anyways, you guys've got orders to intercept him at Icicle Inn and prevent him from getting there. Looks like something important's going to happen."_

_She didn't ask what. All the information she'd needed had already been supplied. Rage washed over her like a fever, and the hand that clenched her phone shook._

_"Elena?" Reeve asked, puzzled by the silence that met his ears. "You there?"_

_"Yeah." She found the reins on her vocal cords and answered through a clenched jaw. "I'll tell the other two."_

As it were, such information had never been relayed back to Midgar. Either because of her intense hatred towards the ex-SOLDIER mercenary, or towards Reno. He had rubbed Tseng's death in her face like a lost bet or a cruel joke, and now she hated him even more for being every bit correct.

The sun was just starting to get high in the sky, and through the breeze floating about the waves around her, its beams warmed her back and the top of her head. Elena found herself growing drowsy despite her troubles. The next thing she knew, she was lying down on the bench on which she had been seated with a wind-breaker under her head as a pillow. The air had gotten considerably cooler, and as she sat up with a tired breath, it materialized into a small puff of vapour in front of her.

"Almost there!" the ferryman called from inside the cockpit. "Y'can see the continent if y'look close 'nuff!"

Sure enough, after several minutes of straining her neck, the white hills and mountains of the Northern Continent came into view. The snow was dyed orange from the retreating rays of the sun, and atop a glowing slope sat the Icicle Inn, tucked away behind towering pine trees. The resort town was barely visible in itself, but the rising column of smoke from various chimneys betrayed its position like a beacon.

One the ferry had managed to dock precariously between two snowbanks, its captain turned to face the young Turk awkwardly.

"Now that we're here..." he hinted, once again shifting his gaze from hers.

She had been prepared for this. "How much?"

He seemed to struggle with himself for a brief moment before eventually giving the answer. "1000 gil."

That was more than she had been expecting. Still, while more of a nuisance than anything, the countless errands Elena ran as an excuse for a job paid well. The amount of crumpled bills and coins that had been collecting in her wallet proved to be just enough.

"Sorry 'bout that," the young man said uneasily, ashamed at asking so much as he accepted the money nonetheless.

Although raised to be polite, she was too tired, emotionally and physically, to make a prim response. So she gathered her things and trudged across the wooden plank on to the snowy fields, sinking up to her ankles as soon as she set a heeled foot down.

"Take care, y'hear?" A call came from over her shoulder, and sounds of the small boat setting out again followed shortly after.

The purpose of her journey was still clear in her mind as she slowly made her way to the base of the steep incline leading to her destination, but no determination or motivation surfaced. Was she supposed to be angry? The man who had killed one of the most important people in her life was barely beyond her reach, and she felt nothing but exhaustion.

She took a step up on to the climbing slope, and then another. Her legs wobbled as if made of rubber, and the effort of carrying a suitcase that seemed to grow heavier by the second was nearly too much for both of her arms, which here starting to shake. Was she scared? Such a thought was preposterous. But she could feel her breath quickening with every stride, and she unconsciously began to chew furiously on the dead skin of her chapped lower lip. There was no way she was getting scared. Her martial-arts skills were rivaled only by two or three individuals out of the entire ShinRa company. She could take on Cloud by herself.

Then what was the phenomenon that had come over her body? Every step got slower, and eventually her legs planted themselves firmly in their place and refused to move. It was like she was watching someone else instead of feeling whatever was happening to herself.

_What's wrong with me? Why can't I move?_

Though the air was warm, her fingers and toes were beginning to go numb. She yanked with all her might, and a foot came free of whatever invisible force that had bound it there.

... Without a shoe. Inches below the surface of the thick snow, a brown high-heel remained planted in the frozen ground. Elena set her suitcase down in front of her, and balancing carefully on one foot, she dug her fingers around the edges of the leather footwear and pulled. It suddenly came loose, small clumps of dirt flying up along with it, and she lost her balance. Her other foot slid from its shoe and she fell on to her back, sliding a small distance down the hill before coming to a gradual stop.

She sat up just in time to see a dark luggage back sail past her, gaining speed as it careened towards the bottom of the hill. Hopelessness setting in, she let herself fall back again and stared defeatedly up at the brightening sky. The snow beneath her melted and sank into her suit, sending chills across her wet skin. What was it all for? Every attempt to redeem herself ended in failure.

_... Tseng._

She mentally chastisied herself and sat back up. It wasn't a question of what, but of who. Her respect for the late Director was unparalleled. She had been probably been nothing but a nuisance to him with her big mouth, but this time she wouldn't screw up. She would never forgive herself if she didn't carry out this revenge.

Biting back bitter tears, Elena ignored the sting of her freezing hands as she pulled herself back up again. It was too hard to think of him as gone. He had never been around much, but the occasional check-up on those under his command was enough to know that he cared. He was too kind. And she would return the kindness, albeit too late.

Time escaped her, and though the remainder of the climb seemed long, numerous shackled roofs soon lay below her as she stood at the top of the slope at last. Children were being beckoned inside for dinner by their parents, cheeks rosy red from playing outside all day. Men shoveling snow from their walkways and roofs showed signs of turning in for the evening as well, climbing down from ladders and walking up the steps to their front doors. Her spirits dropped. She was too late.

Something shimmered out of the corner of her eye, and any feelings of despair vanished. Strapped to the broad back of a man walking out of sight, an enormous blade gleamed sharply. A terrible anger suddenly flooded her veins, and she forgot sadness or fear.

"_HEY!_" she screamed, tearing down the hill in front of her at breakneck speed. The swordsman turned around, blue eyes glinting.

Not a second had passed since she stopped in front of him when Elena demanded fiercely, voice rasping from lack of use, "Where the _hell_ do you think you're going after killing Tseng like that, huh!"

Cloud was now facing her completely, brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?" he asked grimly, deeply disturbed at what she was implying.

Rage threatened to boil over and explode as her clenched fists shook. "What the hell are _you_ talking about! You _killed_ him!"

His hand was now resting on the handle of his sword, though he appeared repproachful to draw it. "It wasn't me," he objected. "It was Sephiroth."

"Don't lie!" Elena was through arguing, eyes narrowed dangerously as she swiped her arm brusquely to the side. "You'll pay for this!" And with that, she drew her elbow far behind her, leaning back. A shrill cry escaped her as she thrust her fist in front of her with every ounce of strength in her body, waiting for the satisfying crack of a broken neck.

But such a sound never came.

Her knuckles cut through empty air, the muscles in her arm stretching and beginning to snap without anything to transfer the immense force put into them to. Her legs, already in the motion of moving forewards, carried her two fateful strides. Then there was nothing beneath her but a downwards plummet, rocks, trees and logs standing in the way of a deep fall. She felt herself moving further and further over the edge, and then her feet left the ground.

She saw white as she tumbled face-first into the snow, collarbone groaning from the crushing pressure on it as she rolled heels-over-head to certain death. The spin-cycle continued as she caught glimpses of low twigs and branches before they tore at her clothes and skin, and her tangled limbs crashed against jagged rocks and boulders. Everything plunged into white once more before her head cleared the snow again and she could take a gasping breath. A long branch caught her cheek and nearly tore her head off her shoulders, wrenching her on to her back.

Elena ceased to breathe for a fleeting second as the air was forced from her lungs. Choking on the snow that flew by her face, a sudden bump in the ground lifted her off the merciless course she ran for a short moment before she came crashing down again on to her shoulder. Still speeding head-first down the incline, she struggled to bring her arms to her chest and folded her hands protectively over the top of her head.

The snow vanished and she skidded across the muddy ground, attempting to twist herself around so that she was falling with her feet before her. All that proved to do was leave her back at the mercy of whatever lay further down the slope, as she found herself facing the distance she had fallen. The small village had completely disappeared from sight, which left her only to ponder how much longer it would be until she reached the bottom.

All logical thought turned into terror as the ground once again disappeared from under her, frigid air whistling by her huddled form as she soared to what would be the final hit her body could take. Fear erased the pain, and she continued to fall through nothingness.

Then suddenly the small of her back slammed against something, thoughts and emotions spiraling away as her eyes rolled back in her head and she lost consciousness for what she believed to be the last time.

oooooooooooooooooooo

He blamed himself completely. There was no excuse for the events that had transpired early that morning, and now there was a large chance they had caused something much more permanent. The steadily darkening bruise marring his cheek was nothing compared to the hell he would put himself through if anything had happened to Elena.

It had been just after Rude returned from the Temple of the Ancients without her that the silent man recieved an order to accompany Rufus, Hojo and Scarlet to the Northern Crater. So Reno was left by himself again, with nothing but his resentful thoughts for compay. Had word of his outburst gotten out, and was this his punishment? Even running a full-time job with the ShinRa earned him barely enough to keep himself off the streets, and he had a feeling news regarding such _unacceptable _behavior would only damage his monthly income. Being excluded from an important mission such as guarding the President himself was not a good sign.

None of that mattered after the phone call he'd gotten just before noon. It had been Reeve, inquiring as to why he wasn't with Rude on his way to the Continent.

"Got left out," he'd answered as nonchallantly as he could. Sure, he was pissed off, but any more attitude would prove damaging in the long run.

The man on the other end seemed confused. "_The mission was for all three of you_," he had responded slowly, trying to figure out this puzzling turn of events. "_To stop Cloud at Icicle Inn_."

That merited more of Reno's attention. "What?" He had never been informed of any such orders. "When was _this_?"

"_A few hours ago. Didn't Elena tell you_?"

He stood up in a rush. "She _knew_! That little--"

"_Reno_." The voice on the other end was suddenly dead serious. "_You have to go after her, _now." He'd figured it out.

"... Huh? _Why_?" The lean man was slow to pick up, as usual.

"_She's going to try and stop Cloud by herself. This is serious, you have to go immediately_!"

No more reasons were needed. He hung up without saying a word, then was out the door and on to the roof in three seconds' time.

And now as he dismounted from the pilot's seat of a "borrowed" helicopter six hours later, he cursed himself and all that had come to pass this miserable day. The Turks were falling apart, and it was his fault for not getting to the Temple on time. If he was too late for Elena, he would never forgive himself.

Reno knew the root of these disasters. He had crossed weapons with him on several occasions, and knew through personal experience that the ex-SOLDIER could not be dealt with easily. Elena was a talented fighter, but she just didn't have the battle experience to cope with someone on that level. He had known the second he'd heard the devastating news that Cloud was behind Tseng's death. And if he found one more Turk slain at his feet, there would be hell to pay.

Stepping through the deep snow, he saw a dark shape a small distance ahead and froze. Then with reckless abaddon, bounded towards it, expecting the worst. But upon nearing the shape, it revealed itself not to be a person but an object, lying dejectedly at the bottom of the tall hill on which Icicle Inn sat. He crouched in front of the suitcase, and knew whose it was without opening it. He steeled himself, then sprinted up the incline as fast as his long legs would carry him.

The sun was just disappearing behind him as he finally stood at the small summit overlooking the town, doubling over and placing his hands on his knees to regain his breath. It was about the time when everybody would be inside, but a ways beyond the last few houses, a small group of people were gathered. The stitch in his side strained as he hurriedly started moving again, still panting raggedly.

His worst fears surfaced as he recognized the unruly blonde hair of one of the few individuals, broadsword sheathed and strapped to his turned back. With him was the bartender from the Sector 7 slums, the gangly brat-ninja, and another heavily clothed man with whom they conversed. No blue suit.

"Fucking hell, Strife!" Reno exclaimed, still stiriding towards him with a growing sense of urgency. "Where the hell's Elena!"

The four of them turned to look at him, and meeting his gaze with equal intensity, Cloud answered earnestly, "She fell down the slope."

He shoved past him, and saw nothing but a sheer drop. Its end was nowhere in sight, and various trees and other debris lay scattered down the endless slope. Swearing loudly, he leaped from the overlooking ledge and slid several meters on his feet before managing to latch on to a tilted tree. The thin trunk groaned from the sudden weight and bent slightly, pleading to be let go. And the pull on it relinquished as Reno allowed himself to skid another long distance, grabbing a thick overhanging branch to come to a screeching halt once more.

He continued the process, letting go and catching something to keep from falling, desperately thinking of a way to go quicker. There had to be a faster way. Elena was probably lying somewhere with her head cracked open, and all he could do was pull goddamn branches.

Reno eventually gave a frustrated yell and ran full-tilt down the hill, nearly slipping as the snow vanished from underneath him and turned to mud. Ahead of him, he could see the slope end in an upturning point and dug his heels into the slippery ground, skidding to a stop just in time. He scanned his surroundings, and noticed a flat area in which many burly trees grew before the plummet continued.

Then his heart stopped beating. A log stuck precariously out of the beginning of the drop, nearly completely horizontal. What kept it there was unknown, and would remain that way. For it wasn't the log itself, but what lay sprawled backwards over it like an animal skin. Or rather, who.

"_Elena_!" he called desperately, heaving himself out on to the plane and pitching towards her. His stomach churned when he got closer. Her suit was ripped and stained red in many places, and one of her arms dangled disjointedly. There was an enormous bruise on her collarbone, many other cuts and markings covering her neck and face. Her mouth hung slightly open, a thin line of blood making its way down her cheek and past her ear.

"_Elena_, answer me!" There was still no response, and the wind whistled through the lonely clearing as it began to grow dark. Trying to fight the panic rising in him, Reno carefully maneuvered his arms under her knees and around her shoulders. He slowly gathered her up against him, limp as a ragdoll. Then he faced the incline, and gingerly took the first step back to the top.

oooooooooooooooooooo

In the firmament of the night, a great rumbling shook the foundations of the Planet in its entirety. Birds and animals fled from their trees and burrows. Rivers and waterfalls coursed and raged, and the wide ocean churned violently at the invisible force that tore at it. Rainclouds rolled and thundered, and thick sheets of water pelted viciously down on to the trembling earth.

Then the clouds and great sky itself screamed and writhed in pain, drawn to a single, twisting vortex over the towering mountains. The moon turned red, bleeding its agony on to the souls beneath it. Lightning slashed at the crimson heavens and striked fear into the hearts of the angels watching in terror. And the storm raged on, swirling higher and higher on screeching winds like a harbinger of destruction.

And then suddenly it stopped. There was no wind. There was no rain. And the sky was lit up as if it were daytime, for Meteor loomed over the world like a second sun.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Elena awoke to a great noise. Her eyelids burned as if on fire, and the structure she could feel around her groaned and shook.

_An earthquake?_

But then it was over. Her bedframe no longer squeaked nor rocked threateningly. Everything was perfectly still. And yet that insufferable light still torched her corneas, even behind their veil of skin.

She eased her eyes open. There was no stabbing pain, no profound ache in the back of her head. The first thing she beheld was the alarm clock on the bedside table in front of her, and continued to stare at it in disbelief before writing it off as a mistake. The glowing digits read 3:04, AM.

_It's way too bright to be that early._

The rays that shone through the thick curtains as if they weren't there made wide circles on the floor, proving their point.

_Someone must have set the clock wrong. It's probably the afternoon._

Elena tried to move her arm to push herself up, but nothing happened. She tried again. Still no result. Where was her arm? She couldn't feel it pinned under her, or at her side. Panic began to set in, and her breath came in short gasps. A tremendous shiver built between her shoulderblades and stayed there, denied release from the terrifying lack of movement.

_Oh my God! Where's my arm? Why can't I feel anything? Why can't I move?_

And then it all came flooding back. Trekking up the hillside, confronting Cloud, suddenly falling, falling, falling... And then--

_The fall! My back! My spine is broken, I'm paralyzed! I'll never be able to move again, and they'll have to feed me through a tube and I'll spend the rest of my life in a retirement home and--_

A loud popping noise jarred her from her horrified thoughts. Another followed, and then another. The sounds continued and got higher-pitched and harder to hear, like someone was playing a scale on a hollow instrument. Then suddenly she cried out as agony exploded at the base of her spine, doing cruel dances up to her neck and across her ribcage, the last of the pain-killers and sedatives leaving her body through a cold sweat. Long tendrils wound their way around her throat and she forgot to breathe, thoughts spinning and floating away as she fell backwards, further and further down into the darkness.

oooooooooooooooooooo

The assignment had been a complete failure.

Not minutes after finally arriving at the Northern Crater, Cloud and the rest of AVALANCHE had shown up and shot everything to hell. The mercenary had finally lost his marbles, and given the Black Materia to the remainders of the once great Sephiroth. The place had collapsed, and although lucky to escape with no casualties and the whole rebel faction, all but two had escaped from right under his guard.

Rude was not completely passive. There were many things that bothered others that he could handle without getting agitated, but almost completely forfeiting one's reputation was not one of them. Needless to day, he was in a less than agreeable mood.

The growing feeling of anxiety he'd had since arriving back at the ShinRa building for a rather unnecessary report was ever present, seeming to tap him on the shoulder and scoot away before he could identify it. It returned again and again, forever tormenting him with the knowledge of not knowing. But the unknown slowly pieced together recent memories, and left clues for him to follow. By the time he had reached his small home on the fringes of the Plate, he was positive there would be more bad news.

As the terrible part of luck would have it, there was in fact an unchecked message waiting for him on the answering machine. A tiny green light blinked innocently from the hallway table. Sighing heavily, he set down his briefcase and walked over to it. Tapping the button for it to play, he threw his keys into a small dish for other assorted items. Among them was the small copy of a photograph Elena had insisted on.

_Beeeeeeeeeep_.

"_Hey, partner_.1" The message started. It was Reno.

"_Listen, ah_... _Well_..." He seemed to have trouble stringing his words together. Something was definitely wrong.

"_It's... It's Elena. She's hurt, bad._" Rude's breath caught.

"_They say... The say-- Aw, hell! I don't know what to do anymore_!"

_Beeeeeeeeeep. _The message ended.

"_Message_," the computer-generated female voice stated monotonously. "_Recorded at Icicle Inn Hotel, Saturday, October 16th_--"

He tuned the rest out. If all this had happened yesterday, who knew what had come to pass until now? Elena could be _dead_. And Reno hadn't made contact ever since, so where was he? There were so many questions forcing their way into his mind that the gravity of the situation hadn't even sunken in yet.

He picked up his keys again and headed numbly back out the door. This was too much to have happened all in two days.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Rude reached the hotel just as another individual walked out its front door and into the light. Though it was early evening, Meteor shone brightly in the sky and refused to grow dimmer, a brazen reminder of his failure.

Instead of the usual quip or casual salute, Reno gave a short wave and was completely silent. While inconspicous, the motion was quite alarming. It demonstrated a tiredness that was only present in the normally unbearably energetic man under circumstances of absolute disaster or tragedy. He expected nothing less than the worst.

A short sigh. "She's fine."

He almost didn't believe his ears at first. But Reno continued, stuffing his hands in his pockets and avoiding eye contact the entire time. "Only one major injury, and it can be dealt with. The rest is just cuts and bruises, and a dislocated shoulder. She'll be fine."

Rude was shocked. He had never seen him act like this, never, over the countless years they'd worked together as Turks. Usually, the flaming redhead would cover up sadness or anger with his antics or a few remarks. But to show remorse and regret so openly was almost unheard of.

"That's good." He allowed some of the immense relief he felt to seep into his voice. Getting too caught up in his emotions was not a good idea.

Reno turned to leave, and then Rude suddenly understood his odd behaviour.

"It's not your fault," he said, causing his companion to stop mid-step and face him again.

"Oh yeah?" Reno asked incredulously. "Whose is it, then, that another one of us nearly died?"

Rude considered this, and felt surprisingly guilty. It had been his doing, allowing Elena to have her way and leaving at her request. Now he saw what a mistake that had been. He'd thought some alone time was in her best interests, then. But looking back on the chain of events that had followed, it had been irresponsible.

He nearly used himself as an answer, but there was enough self-loathing radiating from the man standing opposite him for the both of them. "Nobody is at fault. The circumstances are to blame, if anything."

There was a somber silence between the two. The Reno turned his back again, and began heading down the hotel's walkway. "The last person Elena will want to see is me," he called over his shoulder.

oooooooooooooooooooo

_Why am I still alive?_

Elena had woken up again in the afternoon, and wished she'd never been born. The pain had been so intense she could barely even sit up to take the millions of pain killers she'd been perscribed from the local clinic, and even once they were all dissolved into her bloodstream, the prospect of standing was no less desirable. The drugs made her feel woozy and uncoordinated, and took a lot of getting used to. Once she had regained a relatively good use of her tattered limbs, she had taken the ultimate challenge of getting down the stairs without earning another near-fatal injury, and while sucessful, the ordeal had not been enjoyable.

So now she sat at a table in the downstairs bar of the Inn, pondering her existance. She had seen herself in the full-length mirror of the room she had occupied. The long cuts and bruises that covered her skin were fairly easy to disguise, save for the ones on her face and hands. But there was nothing subtle about the large cast-like contraption that held one of her shoulders in place. The worst of all her injuries was without any means of protection, and the only thing able to heal the horrific mark stretching all the way up her back was time.

And her suit was completely ruined. Her suitcase had been beside her bed when she had woken up, so some of the clothes she had packed would have to do. She looked down at the small shot glass in her hand and slowly sloshed the liquid it contained in a circular motion, contemplating.

_Never mind my life. Why am I still in this _job?

Recalling her breakdown the previous morning and the more recent confrontation with Cloud, she added sourly, _I obviously can't handle the pressure_. _And besides. If word gets out about my actions, I'm done for sure._

With termination imminently hanging over her horizon, Elena seriously considered her options. Working with the ShinRa wasn't the only way to stay wealthy. There had to be some sort of manufacturing company or factory she could work at and still keep a good pay.

_... No. All the factories belong to ShinRa co._

What would she do, then? Nobody would hire someone with as many marks on her record as she had, as new as they were. She would eventually lose her house. There would be nothing but the slums left.

But maybe Midgar wasn't the answer. She could quit on her own, sell her home, and go somewhere far away. Somewhere nobody would find her, where nobody would ever expect to look. The Western Continent immediately came to mind. But no, that was too easily accessible. Wutai? No. Too many tourists. And she was already on the Northern Continent. That only left to go back to the East, or...

_That's it! The Southern Islands! No-one would _ever_ think I'd go back _there.

And in all truth, the thought of being so close to that one tragic location made some of the sorrow she'd sought to hide away come back. There were still so many factors. Were there any inhabitable places on those islands? What jobs would be available, and would they provide enough to make a living? If the beginning of her plan went well, she would have a large fund to start out with. But money only lasted for so long.

Elena decided she would think of it no longer as she ceremoniously downed her shot, throwing her head back to allow the alcohol smooth passage. It was in that precise moment that a tall man descended the wooden stairs to the bar and lounge area. She set her glass down and their eyes locked for a moment, neither of them moving nor saying a word. Then eventually she forced her mouth into a weak smile. It almost hurt.

"Hi."

Rude nodded, and walked over to her table. She beckoned politely for him to sit down, straightening up in her chair, and he obliged silently. There was still no conversation between the two, as they pointedly avoided looking at each other. A mellow-sounding song was playing faintly in the background.

Minutes passed, and the song ended. Swallowing the invisible lump in her throat, Elena attempted to make conversation and ventured awkwardly, "Hey, Rude..."

He directed his attention to her as she thought nervously of something to say. "Why does it never get dark anymore, even at night?"

His brow creased, and he said nothing for a short moment. Then he stood, looking rather embarassed, and waited for her to follow the motion. "I'll show you."

Confused, Elena stood as well, and followed him back up the stairs and out the door in the lobby. It was then, when they stood outside, that she understood. Hovering over the cliffs of Gaea menacingly, enshrouded in red clouds that seemed to burn and roil, was a gigantic sphere of molten rock. The occasional stretch of lightning would dance over its surface, and then disappear. It burned brighter than any light known to man, natural or artificial, and looked to be the size of a small planet.

"Meteor..." she breathed, awed and terrified by its intense glow. It was so overwhelming she eventually had to turn away. All was quiet, for a long time. Not even the birds chirped, afraid of this gigantic light that blocked out even the sun.

Then Rude turned to her, and cleared his throat discreetly. "How's your...?" he started to ask, unsure of how to finish the question.

Elena headed him off at the pass. "I'm fine," she said, beginning to feel guilty. She had made him worry.

He gave another short nod, relieved. But in a move that caught her completely off-guard, he inquired seriously, "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," she lied. _Sorry, Rude. _

"I've probably gotten a suspension notice," she realized and said aloud. "For not telling you about a mission, and screwing it up..." Surely he'd heard by now. And he did seem to understand.

"I'm just not sure anymore," she continued glumly, every bit sincere. "I.." More words came spilling out, and before she could stop them... "I... I think I... I may... Quit..."

Elena could have smacked herself right then.

_Ohh, why did I say that?_

She expected Rude to be surprised, disappointed, maybe even frustrated. Definitely not sympathetic.

"You just need time to think things through," he advised understandingly. "Take as long as you need."

She was thrown at those words. Both at how patient and kind they were, and because she knew she had done nothing but lie to deserve them. Her chin quivered. "I don't deserve this!" she nearly confessed. "I'm lying to you, I'm going to run away! I'm going to leave, and never come back!" But she didn't. It wasn't fair to get him involved.

"Thank you," she said quietly, lowering her eyes to the ground in pure shame.

That night, Elena took a shower and combed through the tangled mess that had become her hair. She packed all of the medications she'd been perscribed into her bag along with her clothes and few personal items, made the bed, and cleaned up the bathroom. Then she tidied the desk, and searched around in it for a map of the world. Miraculously, there was one, folded and yellow around the edges. It wasn't very specific. But at the bottom, amongst the dozen or so islands to the South, she found one that was labeled.

She closed the drapes and made sure the all the lights were out, picked up her suitcase, and left the room. She carefully crept down the stairs and exited through the lobby area, where Rude had fallen asleep waiting for her, and started on her way to Mideel.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Rude awoke with a start. For a moment, he was puzzled at the light shining through the windows, but then remembered his folley. A world with no night would take some getting used to, however long it lasted.

And then he had the sinking feeling that something was missing. He briefly checked that all of his posessions were in their rightful places, remembering an incident in which Reno had found it humorous to remove his sunglasses and hide them, but found that nothing was out of the norm. He would have dismissed his wariness as needless worry, if it were not for his instincts' tendancy to be completely correct.

The ever-familiar feeling of worry beginning to set in, he started towards the stairs leading up to the rooms. Reno had given him Elena's room number as a precaution. For what, he didn't know. But he had a feeling he was about to find out.

When Rude knocked on the oaken door, it swung open. He entered, fully anticipating what had happened before discovering it to be true. Nobody was there. It had been cleaned out completely, and if he hadn't known better, he would have been under the impression that it hadn't been used at all.

He had done it again. Elena was gone, and he was completely to blame.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Elena all but fell to the ground beneath her at long last, heart pounding deafeningly in her ears and threatening to burst. Her knees buckled, and her legs nearly collapsed from underneath her. That had been the most terrifying thing she had ever done in her entire life.

_Faced with no other means of affordable transportation, she found herself about to commit a deed she would regret as long as she lived. Standing silently in front of her was a black, standard-issue ShinRa Company helicopter. Not only was it stealing, but from the one who had done so much for her over the past couple of days. She resolved to make it up to him if she ever got the chance, and climbed into the pilot's seat._

_A small array of switches and buttons lay in front of her, and she was relieved to find something closely resembling a joystick where the steering mechanism on any other vehicle would be. It didn't look as complicated as she'd thought. But she still didn't know how to get things up and running. Fortunately, after rummaging around under the seats for a number of minutes, she managed to unearth a large compilarion of heavy pages that could only be instructions._

But barely knowing what she had been doing hadn't made the ordeal any less nerve-wracking. Steering had been simple enough, but altitude control was a completely different matter. Nearly crashing into another airborne vehicle from the bottom had not been an enjoyable experience.

_But it's over now_, Elena told herself in an effort to calm down. _If it all works out here, I'll never have to fly that thing agan._

Still rather shaken, she collected her suitcase and smoothed her skirt. With her past reputation down the drain, it was imperative to make a good first one here. Even though you could still see her black eye faintly through the tubes of cover-up she had applied earlier, it was better than walking around looking like she'd just been in a fight. Troublemakers never got off to a good start.

Once she had made her way into the small town, it proved to be just what she had been looking for. Small and unremarkable, there were many homes constructed of slabs of plywood nailed together. Near the entrance way, a set of wooden stairs lead up on to a sort of balcony level with a store on either end of the long bridge spanning between them. There were a small number more of facilities on the ground, and a stone path wound between them and through the centre of the town.

The air was warm and fresh, and though she imagined it to be no later than eight or nine in the morning, people were out and about. Salesmen wandered around their stores, beckoning passers-by to come in. Families were out doing their shopping, and children ran around their parent's feet, playing and laughing. Dogs and cats, stray and collared, sniffed and romped in the green bushes. The crowds weren't as massive as in Midgar or Junon, but that was only to be expected; although fairly small population-wise, Mideel was a lively place.

_And the scenery _is _beautiful,_ she remarked, gazing at the flowering trees growing wildly into the town's limits.

However alluring, looking at the clouds wasn't Elena's primary concern. Rude's appearance had complicated the first part of her plan, and now she was in a foreign place with no money. She still had her home back in Sector 3, but that would only subtract from her total. And now that she had no way of severing ties with the ShinRa, she would find herself without gil to spare once they finally erased her file. The only immediate course of action was to find a job. Then she could work from there.

"Excuse me," she asked a man passing by. He stopped, and she continued, choosing her wording carefully. "Um. Is there anywhere nearby with a possible career opening?"

He gave her a strange look. Maybe that had been too formal. Or perhaps it was just the way she was dressed.

_It _is _awfully warm to be wearing a blouse and nylons._

But then again, such attire was really the only option. Drawing away from her scrapes and bruises had been her objective, but she seemed to have drawn a bit of attention to herself anyways.

"Actually," the man replied after some thought. "There's a clinic way down there that could always use some help. They had a pretty close call with a patient a few days ago, and some people from town had to chip in." He pointed ahead. A good distance beyond the rest of the buildings was a worn-looking shack, about two or three times the size of a normal house.

Basic knowledge of first-aid was a requirement for becoming a Turk, but Elena had never needed to use those skills on the field before. She knew how to properly apply anesthetic, bandage a wound, and preform CPR, but that was just about it.

_It's just a clinic, though. I'm sure I won't be treating any shrapnel wounds or sewing limbs back on._

"Thank you," she said, and was on her way. Anything was worth a try.

When she reached the clinic and was just about to enter, she heard two voices from inside.

"--appreciate your hospitality," the first one said. The speaker was a man. His tone was calm, almost quiet, and deep.

She recognized it instantly, and promptly dropped her suitcase in absolute shock.

"Oh, it's nothing. You were quite lucky. Take care, alright?" A woman, probably the receptionist or owner of the clinic.

"Thank you. I will."

The door opened.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Tseng stepped out of the clinic, and nearly bumped into someone else. She jumped back, startled, and he didn't recognize her for a moment. Blonde hair that was normally gelled back had simply been combed through and tucked as an afterthought behind her ears, and her bangs fell off to the sides of her face. And instead of the regular navy suit, he was surprised to find her in a casual blouse and dark skirt that went to her knees. The first thing he found himself thinking was that she looked very pretty.

But although they had been carefully concealed, numerous bruises and thin cuts marked her skin. The brace on her left shoulder was another cause for concern. Just what had happened in the short time he'd been gone?

Elena regarded him as if she didn't believe her eyes. She began to stammer weakly, "Are... Are you really...?"

What was he supposed to say? There was nothing he could do to make up for the sadness he had undoubtedly caused her.

"... Elena, I--"

She needed no more than to hear his voice again as validation. In an instant she was there, her arms under his in a tight hug.

"I'd th-thought..." Her voice trembled and broke, and she drove her face further into his chest.

Tseng placed a hand lightly on her back, unsure of what else to do. "I'm alright," he murmured reassuringly.

But as her arm brushed against the delicate scar tissue new at his side, he flinched unwittingly. She withdrew in an instant, looking abashed.

"I-I'm so sorry!" Elena cried, flushing bright red. "It's just that I was so relieved, and I--"

She stopped herself from talking, and turned an even darker shade. He could have laughed out loud. It was good to see one thing about her hadn't changed.

"It's fine," he said. Noticing as she shuffled uncomfortably, he asked in return, "What about you? Are you alright?"

Her anxiousness multiplied tenfold at being asked such a question. Shifting her weight to one foot, she hesitated and then answered uneasily.

"I'm okay."

"Elena," Tseng insisted gently. She was beginning to worry him.

Elena tensed, and seemed to hold her breath. Then she sighed defeatedly, and began untucking her shirt. She turned around, and lifted the back up an inch or so.

He didn't know what he had been expecting, but it was nowhere near as terrible as the reality. Just where the waistband of her skirt began, a ghastly bruise blossomed upwards and off to the sides in veiny lines. Its centre was a deep red, large, darker blotches dotting around the edges. It appeared to be just below the skin, and the bleeding was so heavy the occasional thin tendril would erupt and the blemish would spread further.

From the looks of things, crushing external pressure had been applied. It was a miracle she hadn't snapped in half, and even then, just standing had to cause immense pain. His supposedly near-fatal wound looked like a paper-cut in comparison.

"What happened?" he asked, voice laden with concern.

So she explained. And as they both boarded the helicopter bound for the polluted hellhole known as Midgar, he realized she had probably thought the other two would have accompanied them on their outing to dinner that had long since fallen to disaster. With that in mind, he resolved to ask her out properly the next chance he got.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Reno and Rude, the last of the Turks, made their way somberly up the pavement to the ShinRa building for a final report. Though neither of them had spoken, they both knew the organization was going under. It had been a matter of time from the beginnng, anyways. With Meteor summoned overhead, the Planet could only wait for its demise. Perhaps, after the Director's death, their downfall had been predetermined as well.

A raindrop dyed black from the pollution fell, followed shortly by its brothers and sisters. Small splashes marking their passage were soon littered across the ground.

Before, Reno would have made a fool of himself, sauntering around and trying to catch them on his tongue. He almost always missed, but would continue the effort anyways. Now, he knew it was useless. He simply continued walking, uncaring of the water beginning to drip down his face.

Rude was normally not one to let minor things get the best of him. But the sound of the rain hitting rooftops sounded began to sound like laughter, coming in short bursts. The endless stoccato of good-natured noises rang out in his ears mockingly.

And then a large burst of wind came from behind both of them, and they whirled around, startled, to face the disturbance. A large, black helicopter marked with the ShinRa logo completed its descent, propellers beginning to turn slower. Rude was the first to recognize the model number on its side.

"That's--" he began to remark, but was cut off by a familiar voice.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeyyyyy!" Elena called, leaping down from her seat the second the helicopter touched the ground.

"Elena!" Reno exclaimed in return, more out of surprise than the exemplary joy she demonstrated. He barely had time to react as she launched herself at him and flung her arms around his neck in an embrace, nearly knocking the both of them to the ground. He swung her around in a circle to lessen the momentum before depositing her back on her feet again.

"'The hell's this all about?" he asked, completely bewildered as to her fashion of greeting him. He had been expecting something much more painful. Instead of an answer, she hugged him again, this time harder. He could have sworn he felt a rib crack. Irony had cruel ways.

Gasping for breath, he choked, "Jeez, 'Lena, what's--" And then he stopped. Someone else descended from the helicopter. Someone he had only expected to see in old photographs.

An enormous smile lit up his features.

"_Yo, Boss_!" he all but bellowed, echoed by a similar "Sir!"

Elena released her iron grip on Reno just in time for him to rush over to Tseng, quickly followed by Rude. She watched happily for a moment, before running to join them. Playful punches and claps on the back were exchanged. There was laughter. And she laughed right along with them.

Elena Rule #3: Things don't always turn out like you want them to. Roll with the punches, and smile through the good times.

(( I know, I know! But I just couldn't resist the happy ending prospect! Besides, I'd tortured the characters far too much for everything not to turn out alright. I love the Turks. But poor Rude, eh? He's the only one that didn't get a hug. Awww.

About the pairing... There really is none. I'd tried to present evidence for all of them. That way you can pick which one you like better. Haha. Yes, I'm so smart, what with my brilliant plans to please the reading audience.

So, until next time. Which will hopefully be soon. I really need to get my ass in gear with SNK. ))


End file.
